Randy interacts with the other person

The soft pad of high heels walking away from him caused Randy to
lift his chin off his chest to see who had spoke. The legs strolling
away from him were long, brown and muscular, wrapped in fishnet
stockings. His eyes followed the legs up to a pair of manish hips packed in a tight velvet miniskirt. Whatever the extreme opposite
of curiosity is, that's how Randy felt about what was under that
miniskirt. "Where's the nearest place to get a drink around here?"
Randy said wearily, loud enough for Legs to hear. With a hand on her
hip, she turned around slowly. Something about her yellow eyes and
high cheekbones reminded him of Wesley Snipes. She looked him over and
then flashed a wide grin. "Come on baby, I know a quiet little
place." Randy tried to get to his feet smoothly, but his leg had
fallen asleep, and caught the edge of his overcoat, causing him to
stumble. In frustration, he pulled off the pee-soaked garment, and
threw it at a pile of garbage. Legs looked him over again, "What's
your name baby?" Trying to quickly think of someone cool, the only
name that he could come up with was Burt Bacharack.
"Burt" Randy said in the toughest voice he could muster. Legs cooed,
"OOH, like Ernie and Bert? They was so cute! I loved them!" "Yea,
like Ernie and Bert. Exactly." Randy said as they started walking side
by side down the pavement.

Randy opted for bar stools
when they got to the crappy little corner bar. He didn't want to give
Legs the chance to get romantic sitting in a booth. After a couple of
beers, Legs caught on that Bert wasn't in the mood for a date, but it
was a slow night and he was buying, so she stuck around. The flirtiness slowly faded from her voice as the conversation continued, and pretty
soon, they were just two guys, sitting on bar stools drinking beer.
The alcohol lubricated the conversation, and Randy began to open up.
"I didn't mean any insult by not wanting a date, you know." he said
sincerely. Legs replied without looking away from American Idol on the
blurry little TV over the bar. "Oh, that's okay. Guys come down here
all the time and change their mind when they get here." Randy felt he
had been misunderstood, and tried to explain, "No, no, I didn't come
down here for a date, I've been through some serious stuff today, man.
My world is falling apart on me." Legs turned to look at him, mildly
curious. "Really?" "Yes!" Randy implored, trying to garner some
sympathy. "I came home today and caught my wife in bed with two other
people doing some seriously sick stuff!" Legs wasn't totally
enthralled with the story. It sounded all too mundane. "What was they
doing?" she asked, turning back to the TV program. "They were..."
Randy didn't want to broach the topic of transvestites, thinking it
would be too awkward, "I don't want to go into all of it, but it was
just sick!" Legs wasn't impressed. "Hey, it happens every day baby."
she said dismissively. Suddenly dissatisfied with the level of
emotional support he was getting, Randy gulped down his remaining beer,
and announced that he had to get going. Legs was now totally absorbed
in the TV, and barely noticed. Total rejection, Randy thought. Even
here.

Select a previous page...

Note: Keep in mind that the From: field of the email message sent by this form will contain your email address,
and will therefore be available to the recipient. If you're not comfortable with this, please
close this window.